


Ration

by SapphireSue



Category: Arctic Monkeys
Genre: Double Penetration, M/M, but i thought fuck it im rollling with it, but no too graphic sexing, forgot arielle existed in the middle of writing, jamie being submissive af, thats it lol, wherein the monkeys are horny bastards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 20:45:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2886932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireSue/pseuds/SapphireSue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It never crossed his mind to sleep with any of them but Alex wants to get laid. It starts from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ration

**Author's Note:**

> This gets progressively dirtier as the paragraphs get progressively shorter. I am so sorry about this, I didn’t know what I was doing. It just sort of exploded right on my face and I had to, I HAD to write it down. I am so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to be like this, I swear to god. Don’t kill me, I love you. I love Cookie but god damn he doesn’t fuck around too much on the tags like holy shit. Um he’s hot as hell? Have you seen his face? Don’t you wanna write about him on his knees or something? Or perhaps dirty talking??? Doesn’t his face make you wanna write about him sucking a dick?? Doesn’t his ass make you wanna write about a dick fucking it?? Seriously, y’all need to write something real fucking nasty about him. Not poop-nasty, though. just something extremely filthy that doesn’t have garbage in it, you know? yes you fucking do now go and work on it. You ain’t getting paid but hey you get kudos and my firstborn when you write a gorgeous fic about Jamie bending over or making someone else bend over. Come on.
> 
>  
> 
> (Sorry I’m babbling. Anyway, unbeta’d so no hate plox.)

Matt and Alex woke up pissed this morning, scowling and glaring, either at nothing or at each other. Jamie doesn’t bother to know, just ducks his head and keeps his eyes on the floor because he knows it’s game over for him when he meets their eyes. Despite his band mates’ sour moods (and possible hangovers), he prepares them breakfast because it’s the only thing he thinks he’s allowed to do. It feels like if he speaks, they’d blow up and he’d shatter for sure. Other than that, he just wants to do something and not awkwardly stand on the corner of the room feeling unwelcome and out of place.

 

Nick’s a kind one, smiling at him when given a mug of coffee and shaking his head politely when offered a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. He makes small talk, putting his hands around the mug and eyes darting from Jamie to Alex, then to Matt, going back to Jamie and continues that cycle. It’s awkward and their voices are kind of hushed like they’re afraid they’re going to cut through the tense air and they do, painfully so. It’s over as soon as it started, and Jamie takes two plates of scrambled eggs and toast to their two other band mates after remembering to offer them breakfast as well.

 

He stands beside Alex’s and Matt’s table and it feels like he’s interrupting their glaring-slash-scowling contest. He clears his throat and Alex’s eyes narrow and direct to him, making him flinch, thankfully not visibly. “Do you, uh, want some...?” He raises the plates and offers a small smile. Alex snorts, lips tugging upwards as he look away to press the butt of his cigarette onto the ash tray. It makes him smile wider, thinks he’s doing well and this is easier than expected. Alex is about to reply but Matt cuts him off.

 

“You know what I want.” Matt says with an obvious undertone and Alex gets up abruptly, the loud scraping of the chair against the tiles enough to make Jamie flinch again, visibly this time. He storms away, missing how Matt gives Jamie a bold once-over and Jamie thinks Alex doesn’t need to see it, probably knows Matt is doing it anyway.

 

“You want...eggs and toast?” Jamie offers, smiling weakly. He flinches _again_ when he hears a door slam and momentarily thinks about how he’s being so jumpy today. Matt isn’t amused and he’s frowning, not scowling or glaring but just staring at his hands. Jamie looks at Nick on the corner of his eyes and finds him standing by the sink, downing his coffee and leaving.

 

He ends up eating what was supposed to be _their_ breakfast, sitting alone and staring out the window. He scratches his neck and hisses in pain. Sighing, he gets up and throws the rest of the food in the bin.

 

Nick is the first one to come back. He sees Jamie watching the telly, but instead of greeting him, he goes to the kitchen to grab a beer. He scrunches his nose when he sees today’s breakfast in the bin, flies buzzing around and on it. It’s twelve o’ clock, which means that thing’s been sitting there for hours.

 

He shrugs it off, goes to plop next to Jamie on the couch. He smiles when Jamie jumped, wiggles his eyebrows at him as he takes a sip on his drink. “Was breakfast strictly for sour band mates?” He asks.

 

There’s a small smile forming in Jamie’s lips but he sounds kind of helpless and tired when he replies. “Yes it was.”

 

Nick nods thoughtfully, furrowing his brows, then shifts on the seat to face the guitarist better. “They seemed fine last night,” he sees Jamie grimace, “and... You seem to know what’s going on. Could you fill me in?”

-

 

Alex is used to it by now. The blinking lights used to make him dizzy but now all it does it bore him. The colours are like the same pattern no matter where they go. He knows they’re not but it just kind of feels like it. It goes red, green, blue, purple, then goes back to red, stops there, then changes and flickers back into the cycle. The people are the same too, just different faces and different places. They all bore him, no matter what kind of stunt they pull on him because he’s seen it all before. He’s been everywhere in a span of almost a year, seen everyone and seen everything.

 

It’s almost like he’s meeting the same people. It’s like they’re just in different bodies and voices. They have a pattern too. There’ll be an attractive woman just a few feet away. Meet her gaze once and he’ll be drawn to look back again, and again, and again, until she’s making her way towards him with an alluring smile. There’ll be some kind of conversation, probably starting with, _“Some party this is, huh?”_ and it goes everywhere from there. He’ll end up with her number scribbled on a tissue paper, but he’ll just use it to wipe the sweat on his forehead and dump it into the trash. She gives great head but he just doesn’t feel like meeting her again, someone he met in some club and not someone who had just been a quick fuck. It takes him a while to forget names, though. He thinks he’s weird just like that, remembering the names and faces when they’re supposed to be anonymous.

 

He’s promised himself tonight will be different. It sounded stupid when he first thought about it but he really wants to break this pattern. He doesn’t want to brand himself as he brands those people. He doesn’t want to have the same pattern. So he tries not to disappear into the bar by himself, sticking by his band mates’ sides. He doesn’t need to worry about women throwing themselves at them because the three are all taken. They sit in a booth and drink the night away. There’s jokes and drunken laughter and Alex finds that he’s enjoying himself. He continues this newly weaved pattern, spending the night with his mates and finding it much more enjoyable than fucking strangers in dingy restrooms. They even have a seating arrangement, an unspoken pattern that just made itself known after they’d done it a million times. Matt and Nick sit next to each other (in that order), Alex sits opposite Nick and Jamie opposite Matt.

 

It’s all smooth and great until Alex remembers how long it’s been since he’s gotten laid. He spots an attractive redhead sitting by the bar, scoping the room and finds herself staring back at him. She finishes her drink and licks her lips, but she doesn’t really need to put on a show. Her face and her bare legs are enough show, that’s what Alex thinks. He contemplates whether to go over there and buy her a drink, but he doesn’t want to interrupt his mates’ conversation by telling Jamie he’s going to leave the booth, so he stays where he is, trapped between Jamie and the wall.

 

When he looks back, redhead is gone. He looks for her, whipping his head around in a desperate attempt to find her. He spots her in the dance floor, smirking at him as she dances with a bloke behind her. Alex’s mouth waters because they’re basically dry humping right there, and even with the loud music, he can still hear her sharp gasp as the bloke grips her hips and pulls her ass right into his crotch. Right when Alex is begging to see more, the two of them leave and he’s left with an aching erection that he desperately wants to take care of. He’s suddenly reminded by band mates’ presence and their jokes and stories that he’s not alone.

 

Jamie is laughing, joking about Matt’s hairdo and Matt, hammered as hell, slips out of the booth and pushes him, continuously. It doesn’t make sense, Alex thinks, because all it ever accomplishes is flatten him into the wall. It makes him become aware of Jamie’s warmth, as his arms touch the older man’s back and it makes him sweat somehow, despite the air conditioning turned up ridiculously high and directed right at their table. He can’t think of anything else right now, not with the warmth Jamie is giving off and not with his tightening pants. Matt keeps pushing until he’s laughing with the other two and stops, shrugging the joke off because it’s really not something to be angry about. He says “C’mon” to Nick and they both leave somewhere.

 

Alex sweats even more as he watches them disappear into the lights. It all happens in a blur. He vaguely remembers Jamie starting a rather deep conversation but in a bit of a drunken slur, and he’s watching those lips move and they’re so red and he’s suddenly kissing them. Jamie freezes in a moment of hesitation but groans when Alex takes his hand and presses it to his crotch. One second they’re making out in the booth, then the next they’re stumbling down the hotel corridor with their hands all over each other. Jamie fumbles with his keys and unlocking the door becomes a great feat as Alex bodily traps him against it, kissing his neck and rolling his hips.

 

In some sort of miracle, he manages to open the door before their free show becomes too explicit.

 

-

 

Jamie wakes up first but he doesn’t notice the added weight on his bed and sleeps his hangover away. When Alex wakes up, he gets up immediately in a fit of panic and all he’s thinking of is how he took advantage of his drunken band mate. He dresses himself up in a hurry, ignoring the pain in his lower back before he runs into his own room as quietly as he can.

 

It doesn’t help that Jamie’s complaining about waking up with a weird taste in his mouth when they’re all lounging around together. He doesn’t remember much last night, _literally_ hammered out of his mind, he says. Alex just looks elsewhere and prays to every god he can think of to prove their existence to him by taking his life right then and there. Nothing happens and Matt’s jokingly suggesting maybe he sucked Alex’s dick last night since they disappeared together. He knows he’s making a horrified expression but the three don’t see it, too busy laughing as Jamie tells them to fuck off with a laugh of his own. Alex feels infinitely terrible because Jamie’s smiling and he it doesn’t even cross his mind that what Matt had said is just a part of their activities. He can remember it well, being the only one who didn’t drink much last night.

 

Next thing he knows it, they’re in a different country, and they fall right back into their pattern. There’s no lascivious dancing or leggy redheads that catches his eye. Instead he thinks of taking Jamie into his room and just _do things_ to him, despite the low buzz of guilt at the back of his head. When Matt’s outside to take a call and Nick is somewhere completely unknown, Alex takes his chances. Jamie looks so innocent to his motives, like everything he does and says is platonic so Alex decides to be more straightforward and scoots closer to him, placing a hand on his knee. The older man glances at it and furrows his brows in question, sipping at his drink.

 

“It’s boring here, ain’t it?” Alex asks, watching as he gives Jamie’s knee a rub. He feels the man tense up under his touch, and when he looks back up he’s eyeing him, like he’s got an idea where this is going but isn’t sure. “Same people, same drinks, same routines...”

 

“We’re in a different country if you haven’t noticed that.” Jamie says with the shake of his head.

 

Alex chuckles a bit, eyes on his own hand again. “Everything’s the same, though. We do the same things. I mean, we drank in a club before, now we’re drinking in one again. Don’t you want a,” he slides his hand onto Jamie’s thigh, “change of scenery?”

 

Jamie almost chokes on his drink and looks at him with wide eyes, disbelieving, internally doubting himself, if he’s getting the wrong signal and looks for signs of drunkenness in his band mate. He finds none and it’s just Alex, sober and horny and confusing. He excuses himself and gets up, feels his thigh turn a bit cold without the touch of a hand, of Alex’s hand. That’s normal, he thinks as he slip into the restroom, of course he’d feel colder. Alex follows him later, enters the restroom when he’s splashing water at his face. And he thinks he’s so damn stupid, to let Alex kiss him and let himself be convinced. They’re locked in a cubicle now, and Alex kisses him and whispers in his ear, “Does this taste familiar?” He groans and yes, it definitely does.

 

-

 

Jamie wakes up first again but he gets up and doesn’t go back to sleep, ignoring how his eyelids would drop. He leaves Alex’s room, thankful that the others aren’t around to witness that and ask questions. He wonders if they know, if they’ve gotten the hint when they disappeared. It happened twice, as Alex told him. First time he was drunk, second time happened last night and he’s sure he’s going to remember it for years. It makes him want to hit himself in the head because after their time in the restroom, they still went back to the hotel for a round two. He feels filthy for agreeing.

 

Matt knocks at his door when he’s brewing his coffee. He lets him in with no question, offers to fix him a mug and walks back into the kitchenette.

 

“You look stressed. Anything wrong?” Matt asks, iPhone on one hand and coffee mug on the other. Jamie doesn’t tell him anything informative, though, just goes, “Just thinking.” And Matt believes him, because he’s staring into space and he’s so lost in his own thoughts.

 

The drummer hums and sets his mug on the coffee table, then slips his iPhone back into his pocket. “Know what usually cheers me up?” He asks, to which the other replies with a “I’m not sad.” He ignores him and says, “A massage.”

 

He’s scooting over and placing his hands on Jamie’s shoulders but the guitarist refuses to be touched. “I don’t need a massage – oh.” Drumming isn’t the only thing he’s good at, Jamie thinks, and his hands just feels so good, pressing the cold out of his muscles. Matt’s grinning at him, shaking his head.

 

“See? You need it.”

 

Jamie doesn’t respond, shutting his eyes and enjoying the ride. He sighs as Matt’s hands travel down his back and settle around his hips, fingers digging at the flesh there, and he can’t help but groan, his own hands finding something to hold onto, gripping the armrest and the backrest of the couch. His thoughts are mixed up by now, his memories of last night’s sex merging with Matt’s suddenly sensual massage. It doesn’t help when Matt leans forward, breath hot against his ear, asking, “You alright?” and presses his thumbs on his hips with more pressure. Jamie gasps, whipping his head to face Matt and just kisses him hard. When he realizes his actions, he pulls away, horrified.

 

“I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t-” Matt cuts him off and kisses him again, lies him down on the couch and straddles his hips, taking his shirt off.

 

They’re right in the middle of it, Matt still buried inside him and thrusting and he’s grinding back and he’s so close, when Alex opens the door. They don’t notice him, with Matt’s face pressed on the crook of his neck and his eyes closed shut. Jamie comes hard, throwing his head back with his mouth agape, and when he opens his eyes, he sees Alex’s upside-down form by the door. The door closes and Jamie gets back to his senses, tells Matt, “We’ve been caught, Alex caught us, fuck, fuck, fuck, fu-” He ends up cursing, muffling it with his arm over his mouth, because Matt becomes brutal, all punishing thrusts and he pulls out, making a mess over him.

 

They don’t see Alex for the rest of the day.

 

-

 

Alex is saying something about patterns. Jamie shakes his head. “Routines,” he corrects, staring at nothing and frowning at it. He’s not drunk enough to sleep with Alex right now, not after what happened with Matt and everything else wrong in the world. Still, he’s sitting on Alex’s couch watching some adult movie and waiting for the sex scenes to come up. He believes he’s the easiest person in the world now, because it only takes Alex’s mouth wrapped around him to convince him to go where he is right now.

 

He feels helpless and easy as Alex straddles his lap, kissing him and whispering sweet nothings. They sound genuine and warm and he believes them, lets himself get convinced once again, forgets he shouldn’t be fucking Alex but he is.

 

Alex is right, he thinks when he wakes up the next morning. He’s a fucking pattern, easy to remember, easy to figure out. He’s just a horny bloke who slept with Alex after drinking in clubs. He finds he’s right too. It’s a routine, no matter how he denies it. He’s been sleeping with Matt too, almost as many times as he does Alex. He thinks it’s a bit weird that Alex hasn’t talked about walking in on him and Matt and still continues to kiss him when he wakes up. Matt doesn’t say anything either, just pins him against a wall and slips a thigh between his legs. Maybe it’s just his imagination, he thinks, because the two lads don’t seem to be mad at each other or him.

 

So he sleeps with them both, alternately.

 

-

 

He confesses to Nick. He spills everything out in the open, leaving nothing to hide, and if Nick judges, it’s okay because he deserves it. But Nick doesn’t and he listens, eyebrows furrowed and shaking his head in sympathy when he speaks about how it’s fucking up the band. It’s supposed to be innocent, they aren’t supposed to be fucking on the couch but they are. And Jamie didn’t really need to confess to Nick because he already knows, he already knows and _he gets off on it_.

 

At first he asked innocent questions like, “What happened the night before?” and “What happened with Matt in the morning?” But Jamie notices how he’s breathing heavily and flushing deeply. And when he asks what is wrong, Nick just pulls him into a heated kiss, mumbling, “You’re so fucking sexy, that’s why we’re drawn to you.” Nick keeps asking him, wants him to keep talking, _describing_ all the things he’s done and those that has been done to him in graphic details. Jamie should know by now that being a horny bastard isn’t going to take him anywhere and he’s ruined the band but he’s already thrusting into Nick.

 

-

 

Matt catches him leave Nick’s room. He freezes at first and they stare at each other’s eyes, before he slumps his shoulders and offers an explanation. Matt shakes his head, holding his palm out to shush him and walks back into his own room. Jamie panics and all he can think of is how he’s fucked the band up. He follows Matt, surprised he’s still welcome to enter, and spills explanations and apologies from his mouth. The drummer shushes him, leans back against the wall and pushes him down to his knees. Matt is dominant tonight, he learns, but he follows the man’s orders anyway, does what he’s told like he’s being blackmailed. Maybe he is, he isn’t really sure, and next thing he knows he’s panting and writhing under the man. He stops thinking completely, lets Matt bite at the crook of his neck and on his shoulder.

 

It goes how it did before. Alex walks in on them, but this time he doesn’t leave and it’s Matt who sees him first. They stare each other, gazes narrow and challenging. The drummer smirks and fucks Jamie harder, makes him moan louder. Alex fumes, scoffs, but stays by the door.

 

“Jamie,” he calls.

 

Jamie’s completely lost in it but he hears Alex’s voice loud in his ears. He looks up and their eyes meet but he finds it difficult not to moan, not with Matt’s brutal pace and sharp teeth. He tries to cover his mouth but Matt pins his wrists above his head, making him feel helpless and extremely turned on.

 

“God, Matt, _please_.”

 

He’s begging for Matt to stop, but he sees Alex’s eyes widen. Realizing what he had said, he tries to take it back, calls after Alex and breathlessly shouts that it’s not what he meant. Alex narrows his eyes once again and slams the door without another glance. Matt gives him another claiming bite, somewhere he knows will make it visible, and comes inside him like it’s going to display territory.

 

-

 

 

“Could’ve asked me to fill you _up_ instead,” he wants to say, but chokes before he does because he feels Nick’s lips on his hickey.

 

The clock is ticking closer to 1:30PM when he hears the door open. He gets up immediately, dizzily pulls on his pants and searches for his shirt. He panics when he hears footsteps nearing him, hastily pulling his shirt on and walking to meet whoever’s arrived. He stops on his tracks though. Alex does too when he sees him. They stare at each other for a moment.

 

“Look, the thing about last night...” Alex pauses, finding the correct words to say. “I know I misinterpreted you. I know you didn’t mean to make it sound that way, and-”

 

Jamie furrows his eyebrows. “Are you apologizing?”

 

“No, I mean, yes. I- err. I don’t know.” Alex looks away sheepishly. He shrugs it away and looks back, more confidently this time. “Matt can be an asshole, I know. But it’s not right that he’s taking you away from me-”

 

“Taking me away-”

 

“-and it’s not right that you let him take you.” Alex continues, voice rising. He inhales, licks his lips. “I know I made you think I’m just using you and maybe all I ever wanted from the start was a quick fuck but you’re more than that, yeah?” He takes a step closer, moves to take another one but stops when Jamie’s eyes widen. “You’re more than that,” he repeats. “So much more.”

 

Jamie’s eyes soften and his shoulders relax. “I was the one fucking around and you’re here taking me back.”

 

“Win me back, then.” Alex says and advances toward him, pulling him into a kiss.

 

He pulls away just as quick, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed. “What-” Alex shakes his head and walks into the living room, sees Nick sleeping on the couch, naked. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He says. “You’ve got to be _fucking_ kidding me!” He repeats in a shout.

 

He walks towards Jamie, glaring at him, makes him back away until his back is against the wall. “You slept with Nick too? Yeah? Did he fuck you?” Jamie shudders despite the situation, shaking his head, looking away. “Ah right, you fucked him. Tell me more about the people you’ve slept with. What, Helders is the only one who makes you take it in the back? He fucks you on your back all the time?”

 

“Alex-”

 

“You never gave me options though. I should’ve fucked you the first time.” He says, cruel smirk on his lips. “I should fuck you right now. Let’s wake Nick up, eh?”

 

-

 

Jamie’s wondering when he’s been this submissive before, but he can’t, he just _can’t_ refuse orders. He’s lying on top of Nick, Alex kneeling behind him, fucking him. He’s at a loss on what to do, just looking away in shame, biting back the moans that threaten to spill out of his mouth. Nick’s watching him with wide eyes, wraps a hand around them and _squeezes_. It feels too good to be a punishment, Jamie thinks. It’s taking him a lot of effort not to give in, _not this time_ , especially not with Alex marking him, biting just beside the first hickey and it _hurts_ , held-back moans turning into a sharp gasp. He arches his back, tries to say something but ends up with a breathless “Alex” instead.

 

“That’s right.” Alex says, smirking as he straightens up, giving his hips a lazy roll. “It says ‘Alex’, doesn’t it?”

 

Jamie’s hands curl into a ball. He grits out, “Yes.” He thinks about how all of this started with that one night at the club, spiralling out of control when Matt starts fucking him and Nick apparently wants in too. He feels like the band’s fuck boy, and now a submissive. It shouldn’t turn him on but he is, painfully so, way beyond belief. He hates it, hates how he feels so empty when Alex pulls out, hates how he feels so cold without Nick’s dick against his. It only occurs to him that they’re repositioning when Alex fills him up again and Nick follows, and suddenly he’s wide awake, nerves likes fireworks and there’s tears in his eyes. He’s gripping Nick’s shoulders for his life, breathing hard and panicking as he’s stretched beyond his imagination.

 

Nick’s gentle, says it’s okay and that he’s okay, closes his eyelids with rough thumbs and kisses them. They don’t move, but they’re still jammed inside and Jamie thinks he might as well take a fist down there too. He doesn’t voice it out, though. He doesn’t want Alex to have anymore filthy ideas. He’s already having enough, so utterly full and he doesn’t know if he can take it if they move; Alex breaths through gritted teeth when he does, Nick groaning as he presses his and Jamie’s foreheads together.

 

“God, I don’t know if I can take it,” Jamie whispers and he feels like crying and _this is the punishment_. He’s full of regret and dicks, feeling like he’s about to explode. He’s so close to sobbing but he keeps it in as much as he can.

 

“Relax,” Nick says, putting his hands on Jamie’s cheeks and rubs his eyelids closed with his thumbs. “We don’t want to hurt you.”

 

Jamie snorts humourlessly but he doesn’t speak, concentrates on relaxing just like he’s told to. The word ‘submissive’ crosses his mind but Alex and Nick move together and fucks it out of his mind. It’s fine, he reassures himself as he breathes through his nose. It’s not half-bad, he thinks later. He’s doing fine, Nick says and kisses his hickeys. He is, he’s doing fine and he’s taking them and it’s starting to actually feel good.

 

They’re fucking him together and it touches him that Alex doesn’t make him take it hard, just goes slow and steady like he’s being careful. He still cares apparently, and it helps Jamie take this better knowing that his band mate isn’t keen on hurting him.

 

Then they hit it, the bundle of nerves inside him. His eyes go impossibly wide and Alex is smirking, Nick burying his face on the crook of his neck. They move again. He stops being silent and he stops trying to hold himself back.

 

-

 

There’s a knock on the door. Jamie rubs at his eyes and shakes his head as more knocks followed. Impatient, he thinks, and opens the door. Matt stands on the other side, eyes narrow and angry. He pushes the door open, hand balled into a fist and he swings at Jamie.

 

Jamie’s eyes widen and realization hits him right when the drummer’s fist and his jaw collided. He feels the world spin as he falls to the floor, catching himself with his hand. Everything hurts; his jaw, his wrist, his lower back. He hears the door shut and Matt’s suddenly towering over him. He gets hauled up to his feet, pushed roughly against the door.

 

“What-”

 

“Nick told me.” Matt says and it’s enough to make him freeze; make his face burn in deep shades of shame. Matt looks at the new hickey. “He said Alex made this.” There’s a sigh. “I guess I’ll have to make another one.”

 

He does.

 

Jamie fucks himself on Matt’s dick and it’s kind of overwhelming, like he’s the one on top now, he’s the one in charge. He forgets about the pain settling in his jaw and grips the headboard. He feels kind of powerful, watching Matt moan and gasp under him.

 

Matt’s phone rings. It reads ‘Nick’ and he answers it despite their current situation. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s breathless, and suddenly he’s smirking.

 

-

 

Nick says something to them like, “Don’t you want to be there when the other’s doing Jamie?”

 

-

 

“You’re going to bring Al? Well he’s got some fun ideas, doesn’t he?”

**Author's Note:**

> kind of hurried at the end. i'll change it if i change my mind about things.  
> ALSO THIS IS LIKE MY LONGEST FUCKING ONE SHOT EVERRRRR. HURRAAAAAAH. NEXT TIME I WRITE, I'LL BEAT THIS RECORD AGAIN.  
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> Also, belated Merry Christmas and advanced Happy New Year! I hope you're doing well. I hope you're happy. If you're not... it gets better. You're beautiful and perfect. If you think you're not going to be happy, you will be, okay? x


End file.
